


The Risks of Knowing You

by 4ce_in_sp4ce



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Confrontations, Dom Cobb Being an Asshole, Dom Cobb is not a particularly great friend, During Canon, Established Relationship, M/M, POV Alternating, Secret Relationship, Swearing, and Arthur deserves better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27248485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4ce_in_sp4ce/pseuds/4ce_in_sp4ce
Summary: Cobb was a friend, and that meant something to Arthur. It meant he'd stick by him, follow him from job to job trying to help him get home, despite the risks and consequences. It meant he'd attempt inception even if he didn't think it would work. But it didn't mean he trusted him. Cobb didn't know about Eames, and both Arthur and Eames intended to keep it that way. The Fischer job complicated things though. More so than either of them anticipated
Relationships: Arthur & Dom Cobb, Arthur/Eames (Inception), Eames & Dom Cobb
Comments: 10
Kudos: 165





	The Risks of Knowing You

The door slammed loudly behind Ariadne as she left the workshop and Arthur sighed, rolling up the IV. He couldn't exactly blame her for her anger. He knew what it was like to encounter Mal in a dream; even discounting their most recent job where she'd shot him, he'd had more than enough less than pleasant encounters with her when Cobb couldn't keep her out of a job. And Ariadne'd had both no warning and no experience in dream sharing. He could only imagine how unsettling and frightening of an experience that must've been.

"She'll be back." Cobb wandered out of one of the side rooms, looking shaky but a little more put together than when he’d rushed out. It was a common enough sight; it was certainly worse when Mal was involved, but even when she wasn't he still often woke up looking unsteady. He was the only extractor Arthur had ever met who seemed to distinctly dislike going under. "I've never seen anyone pick it up that quickly before. Reality's not going to be enough for her now, and when she comes back," he laughed unsteadily, "when she comes back you're going to have her building mazes."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. He wished he shared Cobb's apparent optimism. If Ariadne's anger was anything to go by, she wasn't coming back. Part of him hoped she didn't. Most of him, actually. If Ariadne knew what was good for her she'd stay far away from this. "Where are you going to be?"

"I'm going to go visit Eames."

"Eames?" Arthur frowned, stomach dropping. He didn't like where this was going. "No, he's in Mombasa. That's Cobol's backyard." 

Cobb adjusted his sleeves. "It's a necessary risk."

Arthur searched for some sort of reason to convince Cobb not to go. He didn't want Eames dragged into this mess too. Not with Cobb. "There's plenty of good thieves."

"We don't just need a thief.” Cobb grabbed his jacket and set off towards the door. “We need a forger."

Arthur waited until he was alone in the workshop before pulling out his phone. Cobb was right, they'd almost definitely need a forger for this and Eames was unquestionably one of the best, but that didn't make Arthur any happier about him getting involved. Arthur knew the risks of working with Cobb better than anyone. He'd accepted them and had long decided to keep following Cobb despite them, but he was still very much aware that they were there. And he didn't like the thought of Eames being exposed to them, especially on a job like this. He pulled up Eames' number and typed out the message before going back to resetting the PASIV. 

_Head's up, Cobb's coming your way_

XXX

Eames had admittedly never been a particularly big fan of Dominic Cobb. He knew Arthur felt a sense of loyalty towards him- he'd been Arthur's first main contact in the field, after all, and had helped him get established- but Eames felt no such thing. He found Cobb to be unreliable and selfish- a sentiment that had only strengthened in the past few years- and, simply put, he'd just never really liked the man. So part of him was tempted to reject Cobb's offer without even hearing him out. The main reason he was even humouring the conversation in the first place was because he got a free drink out of it. Get a drink or two on Cobb’s tab, then turn down whatever job he’d come to pitch. That was the plan, at least. 

But then Cobb mentioned inception. 

"Now, before you bother telling me it's impossible, let me-"

"Oh no, it's perfectly possible." Eames cut him off, not particularly interested in hearing whatever explanation he had prepared. "It's just bloody difficult."

"Interesting." Cobb watched him over his drink. "Because Arthur keeps telling me it can't be done."

"Hmm, Arthur," Eames chuckled. Cobb generally seemed to be under the impression that he and Arthur didn’t like each other, as were most people honestly, and Eames was more than happy to let him continue thinking that. Arthur nearly insisted on it, actually. "You still working with that stick in the mud?"

Cobb shrugged. "He's good at what he does, right?"

"Oh, he's the best." Eames knew he was maybe a little biased, but this was more a brag than an exaggeration. Arthur really was the best at what he did. _Not that you appreciate it._ He couldn't resist getting at least one jab in though, even if Arthur wasn't there to hear it. "But he has no imagination."

Cobb chuckled. "Not like you."

"Listen, if you're going to perform inception you _need_ imagination."

Cobb considered him carefully for a moment. "Let me ask you something. Have you done it before?"

"We tried it. We got the idea in place," Eames shrugged, "but it didn't take."

"You didn't plant it deep enough?"

He frowned. Was that all that Cobb thought mattered? "No, it's not just about depth. You need the simplest version of the idea in order for it to grow naturally in your subject's mind. It's a very subtle art." He took a drink, watching Cobb closely. He was, as much as he hated to admit it, curious. "So, what's this idea that you _need_ to plant?"

"We need the heir of a major corporation to dissolve his father's empire." Cobb ran a hand through his hair; he at least seemed to realize how big a task this was, Eames would give him that much.

"Well, you see, right there you have various political motivations and anti-monopolistic sentiments and so forth. But all that stuff," Eames gestured vaguely, "it's really at the mercy of your subject's prejudice, you see? And what you have to do is start at the absolute basic."

"Which is what?"

"The relationship with the father." He hesitated. Arthur had warned him not to get involved with this, and the prospect of working with Cobb wasn't exactly appealing. But his last couple of jobs had been pretty run of the mill boring, and this one at least promised to be interesting, even if it was a mess. Besides, it'd be nice to see Arthur again. "Do you have a chemist?"

"No, not yet."

"Right. Okay, well, there's a man here. Yusuf." Eames laughed slightly. Things would _definitely_ get interesting if Yusuf got involved. "He, uh, he formulates his _own_ versions of the compounds."

Cobb raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you take me there?"

"Once you've lost your tail. The man at the bar." Eames nodded inside. He'd noticed the man as soon as he'd followed Cobb in, but he hadn't done anything besides watch the two of them and glance around the bar nervously, so it hadn't seemed particularly important to point him out until now. 

"Cobol engineering." Cobb grimaced. "That price on my head- was that dead or alive?"

"Don't remember." Eames shrugged again. "Let's see if he starts shooting."

"Run interference. I'll meet you downstairs in the bar in, say, half an hour?"

Eames looked up, surprised. "Back here?"

"This is the last place they'd expect."

"Hm. Alright." Eames grabbed his drink and stood up, adjusting his gait to make it a bit less steady as he walked over to the main bar. The man was obviously not from the area, so drunken ex-pat seemed like a good way to go. "Freddy! Freddy Simonds! My god, it's you, isn't it?"

The man frowned, glancing around Eames' shoulder over to where Cobb was undoubtedly doing something dumb. "Who?"

Eames didn't bother trying to stop him as he pushed passed him and took off after Cobb. If Cobb had been careless enough to not notice his tail on the way in, he could deal with the fallout of that on his own. "No, it isn't you."

He sat down at the bar, ordering another drink. If Cobb managed to make it out of this alive Eames supposed he had a forger for his job. It might even work, too. Cobb was a mess, but Arthur really was the best point man Eames had ever worked with and Yusuf had a bit of a reputation but everyone knew he was brilliant. And Arthur had said their architect was green but talented. Not to mention Eames' forging skills. Inception would be difficult but with a good enough team they could maybe pull it off. He pulled out his phone; Arthur was going to be _thrilled_ about this.

_Looks like I'll be seeing you soon darling_

XXX

Arthur wasn't thrilled that Eames would be working the job with them. It wasn't that he didn't want to see him, because he _did._ It'd been almost four months since they'd seen each other in person and Arthur wanted nothing more than to see him again. To be able to touch him and spend time with him and wake up next to him in the morning. He hated having to spend months apart, with nothing but texts and calls and video chats to keep them connected. 

But he didn't want Eames working a job with Cobb. 

Cobb was a friend, or at least the closest thing Arthur had to one, and he was one of the few connections Arthur had actively maintained over the years. And since Mal's death Arthur had followed him from job to job with few exceptions, trying to help him find a way home because, contrary to what most people thought, he did care. But he didn't trust Cobb. Especially not anymore. Losing Mal had broken something in him and he'd become increasingly unstable. He'd started messing up jobs and taking risks that put everybody, not just himself, in danger, and sharing a dream with him had quickly become a crap shoot when it came to the outcome. Sometimes it was fine. Other times you got brutally attacked and usually killed by the projection of his dead wife. If Cobb was anyone else Arthur would've refused to work another job with him long ago. But he was a friend. And that meant something to Arthur. 

He'd never told him about Eames though. Relationships were a vulnerability in the world of extraction, and a partner could easily become a target. And Arthur knew better than to trust someone as unstable as Cobb with information like that. Eames' safety was too important.

So working a job with both Cobb and Eames made him nervous. It always did. He couldn't help but smile, though, as Eames sauntered into the workshop wearing one of his god awful paisley shirts. They were the ugliest shirts Arthur had ever seen and he absolutely loved every one of them.

Arthur suppressed his smile with a curt nod and a sip of coffee as Eames walked over. "Long time no see, Mr. Eames."

"Hm, not long enough, darling." Eames flashed him a superficial smile before sticking his hand out to Ariadne, who'd looked up from the article on maze construction Arthur had given her. "You're not Cobb and you're _definitely_ not Yusuf, so I'm guessing you must be our architect."

She nodded, shaking Eames' hand with a look of mild confusion. "Ariadne. You're the…forger?"

"Unfortunately." Arthur went back to looking through the various newspaper articles he’d found regarding Fischer. 

Ariadne glanced between them. “I take it you two know each other?”

“The dream sharing world is a relatively small one, and it gets even smaller when you limit it to people who are actually good.” Cobb wandered over, clapping Eames on the shoulder as he walked by. “Doesn’t mean you _like_ everyone, but you generally know them.” He came up behind Ariadne’s chair. “How’s it going?”

Eames sat down at the table across from Arthur as Ariadne started talking through what she'd learned with Cobb, pulling a notebook out and looking over several pages of notes. He’d spent the past week working as a paralegal in Browning’s office and seemed to have amassed quite a bit of information, and would spend the next weeks- or however long it took Maurice Fischer to die- perfecting his impersonation of Browning until he could play him flawlessly in Fischer’s dream. Arthur looked forward to getting to watch that process in the evenings; it was always interesting, and became particularly entertaining after a glass or two of whiskey.

Arthur looked over, frowning, when his phone buzzed.

_Dinner tonight?_

He looked up to find Eames watching him with a small smile, just discrete enough that it would be easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it. Arthur smiled back quickly before looking down again.

_Looking forward to it_

XXX

“You’ll be the dreamer for the third level. Ariadne’s finishing up the designs now, so she’ll go over them with you when she’s done.”

Eames nodded. “This’ll be the deepest I’ve gone before.”

“Well, prepare yourself.” Cobb laughed dryly. “Things get more complicated the deeper you go since you’re getting closer to the subconscious, and by the time we reach the third level there’s no predicting what exactly we’ll find.”

“Is a third level really a good idea then? I mean, if it’s _that_ unpredictable…”

“It’ll be fine. We just have to be prepared.” Eames tried not to sigh as Cobb cut him off. “The main thing we’ll have to worry about is Fischer’s projections getting aggressive. Even without training, the closer you get to the subject’s subconscious the more aggressive their projections can become.”

“It’s easier for them to sense it’s a dream since they’re so close to their source.”

Cobb nodded. “Exactly.”

Eames sighed. It made sense that things would get rougher and less predictable the further down they went, but he didn’t like it. It would be better if they could get away with only having two levels- and Eames honestly wasn’t convinced they needed more than that, not if they simplified the idea enough- but Cobb clearly wasn’t going to be persuaded. “We have a _plan_ to handle this? Because as much as I don’t mind a little improvisation, there’s a time and a place for it and this isn’t it.”

“Outside of being well-armed, there’s not much use in specific planning. Not this deep, at least. We’ll have the layout Aridane designed but at this depth, the influence of Fischer’s subconscious will be strong enough that anything beyond the basic design can’t be guaranteed. Between that and the increased risk of aggression from the projections, we’ll just have to be prepared to work with what we find.” Cobb rolled up his sleeves, looking far more comfortable with the situation he’d just laid out than Eames was. “It’ll be you, me, and Saito there, along with Fischer of course. Yusuf and Arthur’ll be back on their respective levels.”

Eames frowned. “You sure it’s a good idea to have Arthur stay on the second level? If things get as messy as you think they might get on the third level, we could maybe use his skills." He shrugged. "Why not have Saito be the second level dreamer? He’s the least experienced of us, so he might have a hard time with such a complex and unpredictable level.”

“No, Saito wants to see the job done, so he needs to be on the third level with us. And besides, you know Arthur,” Cobb chuckled. “Great in a fight but not exactly the most creative guy. And we need creative.”

Eames bristled slightly at that, which he knew was a bit dumb of him. He certainly poked plenty of fun at Arthur’s rigidity and insistence on detail and precision, so he wasn’t exactly one to speak, but he still recognized Arthur’s level of skill. It was different coming from Cobb. “He’s a bit rigid, but he’s got more creativity than we usually give him credit for. I mean, you were there for the Berlin job. And he’s got more than enough experience to handle a complex level like this. Certainly more than Saito does.”

Cobb raised an eyebrow. “Surprised to see you defending him. You’re usually the first to point out his overreliance on rules.”

“I like giving him a hard time. Doesn’t mean I won’t give him credit where it’s due.” 

“Well, credit or no, we can’t afford to be held up by him on that last level. We need someone who can adapt to whatever we find, and that’s not him.”

Eames gritted his teeth and bit back an angry reply. Cobb would find it odd if he continued defending Arthur, even if Eames knew he was being unfair, and things could get difficult if Cobb started actually paying attention. Arthur was insistent that Cobb not know about them, and Eames certainly didn’t blame him. Didn’t make swallowing his annoyance any easier though. “Right. Adaptability and creativity. Not exactly Arthur’s strong suits.”

“Exactly. No use having him somewhere where he won’t be particularly useful.”

“And you’d certainly know where that’d be, wouldn’t you?” Eames worked to keep his voice even and neutral, but a tenseness crept into his tone despite his efforts. 

“I’ve gotten a pretty good idea over the years.” Cobb gave him a small smile, and Eames couldn’t tell if he was relieved or annoyed that Cobb seemed to miss the tightness in his voice. “I’ve certainly worked enough jobs with him.”

“Of course.” Eames nodded, trying to pay attention and ignore the flare of anger in his chest as Cobb went back to explaining the third level. He’d never liked Cobb, but it had been long enough since they’d worked together that he’d almost started to forget the specifics of _why_ he didn’t like him. The longer the job went on though, the better he remembered; if anything, he was just adding things to the list. 

Eames glanced over to where Arthur was working quietly, completely absorbed in whatever he was currently doing. He knew Arthur felt a sense of loyalty to Cobb, even considered him a friend, but Eames would be perfectly happy to never work with him again after this and would be even happier for _Arthur_ to never have to work with him again after this either. He deserved better. 

XXX

"Do you think we can actually do it?"

Arthur glanced up. From this angle he couldn't really see Eames' face, but he had the thoughtful tone he got when he was genuinely curious about something. Arthur shrugged and rested his head back on Eames' chest. "I don't know. Maybe."

"That's a far cry from your normal tune of 'its impossible'."

"I mean, I'm still skeptical, don't get me wrong, but I think it…it's maybe possible." He paused. "Ariadne's a good architect, and Yusuf's probably one of the best chemists I've worked with. And our plan is actually halfway decent. Not as specific as I'd like," he smiled as Eames chuckled, "but still decent." Arthur moved closer, draping his arm across Eames' stomach. "Your idea to forge Browning on the first level so that he gives himself the idea on the second level was a _particular_ stroke of genius."

Eames laughed. "Laying the flattery on thick tonight, I see."

"Hm, I'm pretty sure you called it condescension the first time."

"Condescension, flattery, two sides of the same coin." Eames' hand trailed lightly down Arthur's side until it came to rest on his hip. "Long as it's coming from you I don't mind."

"I'll make a point to be more condescending then."

"Fuck off." Arthur could hear Eames smiling. "I was trying to be romantic, you know."

Arthur grinned. "And I was trying to be annoying. Seems we both did a good job." He paused. "I think we actually have a shot though, if everything goes to plan. And if it doesn't, well," he shrugged again, "we miss out on a payday, but it's not like it's the first time that's happened."

Eames hummed in agreement. His hand was still resting on Arthur's hip, thumb tracing small circles against his skin. "Any plans once we land?"

"No, nothing in particular." Arthur thought about the question for a moment before sitting up slightly, propping himself up on his elbow. He could see Eames' face better like this. "No matter how this job goes, I'll probably be parting ways with Cobb after. He'll either finally get to go home or he'll go to jail. Either way, we'll be going our separate ways." He trailed his fingers across Eames' chest. "Maybe we don't have to spend so much time apart now."

Eames smiled at him. "I'd like that." He leaned up, kissing Arthur. "Maybe take a few weeks off, just for us." 

Eames kissed him again and Arthur leaned into it, letting his hand slide down Eames' torso. "Mm, sounds romantic." 

"We could go to Florence." Eames shifted and Arthur moved with him until he was seated on Eames' lap, straddling him. Eames pressed a line of kisses down his jaw. "You always liked Florence."

The sound of Eames' voice, quiet and warm, right beside his ear sent a shiver down Arthur's spine. He gasped slightly as Eames moved down to his throat, his hands slipping under Arthur's shirt. God he'd missed this. The idea of not having to say goodbye again, at least not for a while, was maybe the most wonderful idea he'd ever heard. All they had to do was get through the job. That was all. "Florence sounds wonderful."

XXX

Arthur was honestly a little surprised the taxi made it all the way to the garage. It’d been absolutely shot to shit, and the bumper was barely hanging on by the time they turned into the alley. He was just glad they hadn’t run into anymore gunfire on the way; they’d barely managed to get through the first round, there was no way they’d have made it through a second. He pulled into the garage and screeched to a halt, running over to the passenger side door as soon as the car was parked. Cobb was yelling for someone to get Fischer in the back room, but someone else could deal with that right now.

He pulled Saito out of the car carefully, trying not to jostle him too much as he took stock of the situation. It wasn't good. Arthur had seen enough gunshot wounds in his time- both in dreams and the real world- to have a decent idea of what ones could be easily handled and what ones were more serious or even fatal, and this was definitely the latter kind. Saito groaned as Arthur laid him down on the concrete as gently as he could. 

Cobb ran over. “Has he been shot? I-is he dying?”

The franticness in his voice was a bit odd, but Arthur didn’t pay it much mind. The gunfire had been a wholly unpleasant surprise and Saito _was_ their employer after all. He’d seen Cobb get worked up over less. “I don’t know.” He looked up, frowning. “Where were you? What happened to you?”

Cobb raked a hand through his hair. “We were blocked by a freight train.”

Arthur turned to Ariadne, confused. She was a better architect than to include something like that. “Why would you put a train crossing in the middle of a downtown intersection?”

Ariadne shook her head. “I didn’t.”

“Well where’d it come from?”

Cobb cut him off. “Let me ask you a question! Why the hell were we ambushed, huh?! Those were not normal projections! They’d been trained for god’s sake!”

“You’re right.” Arthur grimaced. He didn’t know how he’d missed it. Extractor training was one of the first things he looked for when researching a mark, and he hadn’t found a sign of it for Fischer. Obviously he’d overlooked something, but the question of how could wait until later. 

Ariadne looked between him and Cobb. “How could he be trained?!”

Arthur sighed. “Fischer’s had an extractor teach his subconscious to defend itself, so his subconscious is militarized.” He looked back up at Cobb, hoping to placate him. “It should’ve shown in the research. I’m sorry.”

“So why the hell didn’t it?” Cobb was nearly yelling. 

Arthur frowned. Cobb could be a bit reactive at times, but he’d never seen him get worked up like this on a job before. The situation certainly wasn’t ideal, but they’d faced worse. “Calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down! This was _your_ job, goddammit! This was _your_ responsibility!” Cobb jabbed a finger at Arthur. “You were meant to check Fischer’s background thoroughly! We are _not_ prepared for this type of violence!”

Arthur stood up, following Cobb as he started to walk away. “We _have_ dealt with sub-security before, we’ll be a little more careful and we’re going to be fine!”

“This was not a part of the plan!” Cobb was full on yelling now, pointing at Saito. “He’s _dying,_ for god’s sakes!”

Eames walked over, pulling out his gun and cocking it calmly. “Come on, just put him out of his misery.”

“No, don’t do that!” Cobb rushed over, grabbing Eames’ arm and pushing him against the side of the taxi. Eames held his hands up and Arthur felt anger flare up in his chest; things had gone a bit to shit, but they weren’t bad enough to warrant this. Cobb was out of line. “ _Don’t_ do that.”

“He’s in agony, I’m waking him up.” As if on cue, Saito groaned, and Eames motioned to him.

“No. It-” Cobb hesitated, stumbling over his words. “It won’t wake him up.”

Eames stared at him. “What do you mean it won’t wake him up?”

“It won’t wake him up,” Cobb repeated. Dread started growing in Arthur’s stomach; he didn’t know where this was heading, but it wasn’t anywhere good.

“When we die in a dream we wake up.” Eames was speaking slowly, like if he spoke clearly enough Cobb would realize his mistake. 

“Not from this.” Yusuf shook his head. “We’re too heavily sedated to wake up that way.”

Eames looked over at him before looking back at Cobb. “Right. So what happens when we die?”

Cobb looked down. “We drop into limbo.”

Arthur gaped at him, barely able to believe what he was hearing. “Are you serious?!”

“Limbo?” 

Arthur could hear the fear and confusion in Ariadne’s voice, but he kept his gaze fixed on Cobb, trying to process what he was hearing. This was bad. _Really_ bad. The sort of bad that they should've been made fucking aware of before they were already under. “Unconstructed dream space.”

“Well what the hell is down there?”

“Just raw, infinite subconscious. _Nothing_ is down there,” Arthur walked over to where Cobb was standing, back to the rest of them, “except for whatever might have been left behind by anyone sharing the dream who’s been trapped there before. Which, in our case, is just _you._ ”

“How long could we be stuck there?” Ariadne sounded almost frantic. 

Yusuf spluttered, clearly trying to think of an answer. “Can’t even think about trying to escape until the sedation has eased-”

“How long, Yusuf?” Eames cut him off, and Arthur glanced back at him; it wasn’t often that Eames’ voice got the hard edge it currently had.

Yusuf shrugged. “Decades. It could be infinite. I don’t know, ask him!” He motioned to Cobb, who still wasn’t looking at the rest of the team. “He’s the one who’s been there before!”

Arthur sighed and knelt back down beside Saito, lifting him up gently, and motioned for Yusuf to join him. He tried to shove down the anger he could feel building up; considering death was suddenly a very real fucking threat again, he figured it’d be best to deal with this new revelation when Saito wasn’t bleeding out on the floor beside him. “Let’s just get him upstairs.”

Saito sagged between them as they walked, breathing heavily. He was heavier than he looked now that he couldn’t support his own weight, and getting him up the stairs was a challenge. Yusuf wasn’t much help either. Arthur could feel the discomfort nearly radiating from him. _Damn right you should feel uncomfortable. You knew we were facing this risk and you didn’t say a thing._ Yusuf at least had the defense of rarely having gone into the field before this; it was easy to assume that extraction was a relatively non-dangerous affair when you hadn’t worked many jobs. Cobb, though, was a very different fucking story.

They laid Saito on a workbench carefully. The rest of the team had followed them up and Arthur looked around. “Someone got first aid?” Ariadne hurried over, medical kit in hand, and Arthur moved out of the way. He walked over to Cobb, anger building back up in his chest, fear mixing in with it as he caught sight of Eames. _If he dies, if he gets killed, he won't wake up. You'll lose him._ Arthur pushed the thought aside as best he could, focusing on the anger instead. “So, you knew about these risks, and you didn’t tell us?”

Cobb sighed. “There weren’t meant to be any risks.” He shot Arthur a look. “I didn’t know we’d be dealing with a load of gunfire.”

Cold rage flared in Arthur’s chest again. He'd made a mistake, but the shit show this had suddenly devolved into wasn't on him. “You had no right.”

Cobb shrugged, looking away. “This was the only way to go three layers deep.”

Arthur whipped around to look back at Yusuf. “And you. You knew about this and went along with it?”

He could see the growing panic in Yusuf's expression as the reality of their situation began to hit him more fully. “I trusted him!”

“You _trusted_ him?" Arthur scoffed. "What, when he promised you half his share?”

“No." Yusuf looked down. "His whole share." He motioned over to Cobb. "Besides, he said he’d done it before.”

“Oh, he’d done it before." Arthur almost wanted to laugh, the sort of laugh that he knew would come out cold and a little hysterical. "What, with Mal? ‘Cause that worked so good?”

Cobb glared at him. “That has nothing to do with it. I did what I had to do to get back to my children.”

Arthur did laugh at that. "Oh, nothing to do with this. Right. Of course. My fucking bad." He took a breath, clenching his fists. He knew he should let this go. Just keep going and focus on the job. If he wanted to yell at Cobb after he could, but pressing the topic now was a bad idea. He caught sight of Eames again out of the corner of his eye though as he started to turn away, fear and anger gripping him and rising in his throat. He turned back to face Cobb, trying to keep his voice measured and even. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe, just fucking _maybe_ , the rest of us have people we want to get back to too? You aren't just gambling with your own life here, Cobb, so don't act like those are the only fucking stakes."

Cobb looked away. "You knew inception was going to be difficult. You knew there'd be risks."

"Not ones like this we didn’t. You should have fucking told us." Arthur could hear himself getting louder, his control slipping. "I have followed you from job to job, from fuck up to fuck up, for _three years_ because you're my friend. I want you to get home, and I will put my life on the line for you if it comes down to it. But you do _not_ get to risk the life of my partner, dammit!" He was yelling now. "That is the _one_ thing you aren't allowed to do!"

"Arthur…" Eames' voice was steady and Arthur felt a hand on his arm.

Arthur clenched his jaw. Eames was right, he needed to calm down. He took a shaky breath, glaring at Cobb. "Gamble with your own fucking life, I don't care. But stay away from the people I love."

Cobb looked between him and Eames with confusion and shock. "What…you…" His expression slowly shifted to dawning understanding as Arthur turned away, Eames' hand still resting on his arm. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Arthur swung back around, the accusation in Cobb's tone somehow angering him more than anything else. Like it was on him. _His_ fault for not saying something. He could take the blame for having missed the sub-security; he deserved it. But not for this. "No. You don't get to fucking do that. You don't get to run away from this like you do everything else and blame me for not telling you. Do you know _why_ I didn't tell you?" He jabbed a finger at Cobb. "Because you do shit like this. You're unstable. You're selfish and unreliable and a _fucking_ liability, and I didn't want to risk Eames getting hurt because you couldn't keep your shit together." He let out a short, harsh laugh. "Turns out it didn't matter if you knew or not, because you're willing to risk all our lives anyways."

Cobb stared at him, silence heavy in the room as he seemed to process Arthur's words. They'd clearly hit home. Arthur knew Cobb well enough to see that in his face. _Good._ Eames’ hand was back on his arm and he tried to focus on that rather than his anger. As much as he wanted to keep going, he knew he needed to get it back under control. This wasn’t the time for it. He could feel it later- he _would_ feel it later- but right now it wasn’t going to help things. 

“So.” Ariadne was the first to break the silence. “What do we do now?”

After a moment Cobb sighed. “The only thing we can.” He ran a hand through his hand, looking down. “We continue on with the job. We do it as fast as possible and we get out using the kick. Just like before.”

Eames shook his head. “Forget it. If we go any deeper we just raise the stakes.” His grip on Arthur’s arm tightened slightly, and Arthur could hear an undercurrent of anger in his voice. “The risks are too high. We should sit this one out on this level.”

Cobb looked up, face determined. He gestured toward the windows. “Fischer’s security is surrounding this place as we speak. 10 hours of flight time is a week at this level. That means each and every one of us will be killed. That I can _guarantee_ you.” He shrugged. “We have no choice but to continue on and do it as fast as possible. Downwards is the only way forwards.” He took a deep breath, seeming to steady himself, before walking towards the door, turning to Eames on the way. “Get ready.” He tossed a black ski mask to Arthur as he walked out of the room. “You, come on. Let’s go shake him up.”

Arthur gripped the mask tightly as he started to follow Cobb back downstairs to where they were keeping Fischer, shoving down the rage that was threatening to push through again. Cobb was, unfortunately, right. With Fischer's militarized projections there was no way they'd survive a week here. And with death suddenly a very real fucking threat again, they had no other option but to carry on with the job.

"Arthur." Eames' voice made him turn. He'd followed Arthur to the doorway, where they were a little farther away from the others. Arthur looked away as he came close, not wanting to look at Eames' face. He couldn't. Not now, not when he needed to ignore the fear that came with knowing he could lose him. Eames' hand was against his face, though, tilting his chin up. "Darling, look at me." The expression on Eames' face when Arthur finally looked up was softer than he'd expected; he could see the anger and anxiety in it, the tension, but it was still gentle. Arthur had no doubt he was trying to look calmer than he was to put Arthur at ease, but knowing it didn’t make it any less effective; he could feel a small bit of tension drain from his shoulders as Eames rested his forehead against Arthur's, taking a breath. "It's alright. We'll be alright." He ran his thumb across Arthur's cheek. "We're going to Florence after this, remember? Just us. We'll get through this job and then we'll go there because we're going to be alright."

Arthur nodded, closing his eyes. Eames' words didn't do much to lessen his fear, but they helped dampen the anger. This was bad, but they'd get through it. They'd be alright. "I love you. Whatever happens, I love you, and I'm sorry you got involved in this." He leaned in and kissed Eames briefly before pulling back, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He was vaguely aware of Yusuf and Ariadne very distinctly trying not to look at them from across the room. "Get ready. I'm going to go intimidate our hostage."

XXX

The second level had been less chaotic so far than the first but relief still flooded through Eames when he walked into the hotel room and saw Arthur, alive and uninjured. The Mr. Charles gambit had apparently worked and Fischer was in the room as well, questioning his projection of Browning about his motives. It seemed Eames' performance on the previous level had worked too, which was good to know. At least a few things had gone right. 

Arthur's expression was tight as he rolled up Eames' sleeve. He looked better than he had in the garage though, and Eames was willing to take any improvement no matter how small. In all the years he'd known him Eames had never seen Arthur lose it like he had back there. He'd honestly been a little worried Arthur was going to punch Cobb. Not that he blamed him; Eames would _gladly_ punch Cobb if given the chance for recklessly endangering them and lying about it, and he maybe _would_ punch him if they all got out of this, but it wasn't going to help things while they were still stuck in the middle of the job. Arthur had managed to calm down though, at least enough to focus on the job and continue without decking Cobb. He’d need that focus, too; Fischer’s projections would be swarming the hotel, and Arthur would be the only one left to fend them off. "Security's going to run you down hard." 

Arthur chuckled, giving him a small smile that almost managed to mask the worry in his expression. Not quite, but almost. "And I will lead them on a _merry_ chase."

Eames caught his hand before he inserted the line. He knew Arthur was capable of taking care of himself. He was efficient and effective, sometimes brutally so, in a fight, and there was no reason to think he wouldn't be able to handle Fischer's projections. The thought of leaving him behind on this level, though, of continuing on without him, sent a stab of fear through Eames' chest. This wasn't going to be goodbye, Eames refused to allow it to be that, but he couldn't ignore the fact that it still might be. No matter how hard he tried, this might be the last time he saw Arthur. Or at least the Arthur he knew and loved. "Just be back before the kick." 

Arthur squeezed his hand and Eames nodded, understanding. This wasn't goodbye. Eames wasn't going to let it be, and neither was Arthur. His eyes drifted shut as Arthur inserted the IV. "Go to sleep, Mr. Eames."

XXX

Eames handed Arthur his coffee as he sat down. Airport coffee was always a gamble and Eames generally avoided it when he could, but the one night they'd spent in LA hadn't been even close to long enough to reset their internal clocks from Paris' time zone. Arthur accepted the cup gratefully. "Crew just got on, so we should be boarding soon."

"Perfect." Eames took a sip from his own cup. It wasn't half bad. Either that or he was tired enough that he couldn't tell the difference. Could be either one, honestly. "I'm very much looking forward to being able to pass out for the entirety of this flight."

"And you won't even have to work during it either."

Eames laughed. "Nice when that works out, isn't it?" The prospect of another 13 hour flight less than a day after their _last_ 13 hour flight wasn't exactly thrilling, but knowing he'd sleep through the entire thing- _actually_ sleep too, not just a somnacin induced unconscious state- made it a bit more bearable. And knowing they'd be in Florence when he woke up made it even better.

He looked over, surprised, when he felt Arthur's head on his shoulder. Arthur had never been one for any form of public affection; how much of it was to keep their relationship a secret and how much was simply a personal preference Eames had never quite been able to figure out. Whatever the reasoning had been, though, he'd apparently decided to overrule it this time. Eames supposed he shouldn't be surprised; Arthur had barely let go of him once they'd gotten to the hotel last night, pulling him in close and holding onto him tightly, and Eames had been more than happy to let him. The job had shaken both of them and simply being able to hold Arthur and know he was alright, they were _both_ alright, had been all Eames had wanted. Even now the thought of how close they'd come to possibly losing each other sent a stab of panic through his chest. He wrapped his arm around Arthur's shoulders, resting his cheek against the top of Arthur's head. A couple of the other passengers in the gate area glanced over at them curiously, but Eames ignored them.

Arthur shifted beside him. "I got a text from Cobb. He made it home."

"Good. I'm glad." He meant it too. He didn't like Cobb and after what he pulled on this job Eames would be perfectly happy to never deal with him again, but he was glad he'd finally made it back home to his kids. He at least deserved that much. "Do you think you'll see him again?"

Arthur hesitated. Eames could only imagine how everything was setting with him. Everything with Cobb, with the job, with the confrontation and what'd been said, it was all far more personal for Arthur than it was for Eames. Eames knew there'd be a complicated mess of emotions left over even once the original visceral reactions faded, and it might be a long while before Arthur was able to parse out what exactly those emotions meant for him. "I don't know," he admitted after a moment. "Maybe. But not for a while. And maybe not ever."

Eames nodded. "That's alright." He squeezed Arthur's shoulder slightly. "You don't have to know." 

Arthur relaxed against him. They fell into comfortable silence, the general quiet commotion of the terminal surrounding them. Eames was starting to wonder if Arthur had dozed off when he rested his hand gently on Eames' thigh. "I love you, you know that? More than anything." 

"Hm, not as much as I love you."

Arthur laughed quietly. "I don't think that's possible."

Eames grinned. "Must be one of your paradoxes then." He covered Arthur's hand with his. "The Penrose steps, the Klein bottle, which one of us loves the other more, so many for you to work with."

"Quite a selection." Eames smiled as Arthur turned his hand, intertwining their fingers. "I have a favourite already."

"Let me guess, the Penrose steps?"

Arthur laughed again. "Absolutely. Can't imagine why you'd think it was anything else. Though I am admittedly rather partial to the Borromean rings too."

Eames chuckled, pulling Arthur in slightly closer. It would be good to take a few weeks off, just the two of them. No job, no team to hide their relationship from, just them. They both needed to rest and recover. They'd figure out where to go after when the time came but until then all they had was Florence and each other. And Eames couldn't think of a single other thing he needed.


End file.
